by Hank Janson
‘Getting quite a big shot,’ went on Sharp. ‘Throwing your weight around, solving mysteries, doing the cops’ work for them.’ He came out of his chair suddenly like a propelled bullet. His face was red with anger as he hammered on the desk. ‘You’ve just about had it, Healey,’ he yelled. ‘You can’t get away with it. Printing that stuff is gonna cause you plenty of grief.’
The Chief stared straight across the desk into his angry face. ‘You give them those cigars, Janson?’ he asked. His voice was brittle.
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Just while they were waiting.’
‘Take them away,’ he said, and there was a snap in his voice. I moved the cigar box from where I’d left it on the desk.
Sharp wagged his finger under the Chief’s nose. ‘I’m gonna have your trousers taken down in public, Healey,’ he threatened. ‘You’re gonna take the biggest beating any paper ever had.’
‘Are you going to get out, or am I going to throw you out?’ the Chief asked.
‘I’d love you to try it,’ said Sharp.
There was a nasty situation developing. I eased alongside Sharp, took him gently by the arm. ‘This ain’t gonna get you anywhere,’ I said gently. ‘What say you sit back down and talk this over?’
For once Conrad was on my side. ‘Take it easy, Sharp,’ he said. ‘Do what he says. We’ve gotta do this properly, remember?’
For just a moment it seemed like Sharp was gonna slam out at me and then take a poke at the Chief across the desk. But somehow he managed to get his temper under control. He eased back into his chair, face still angrily red and breathing hard.
‘You’re learning a little sense,’ said the Chief.
‘I’m gonna teach you plenty,’ threatened Sharp. ‘You know it’s an offence to withhold information from the police? Vital information?’
‘I guess I know the law,’ said the Chief.
‘You claim,’ said Sharp, ‘that you know the murderer of Burden.’
‘That’s right,’ said the Chief cheerfully.
My guts heeled over. If the Chief only knew!
‘You’re withholding evidence from the police,’ snapped Sharp. ‘I wanna know what evidence you’ve got.’
‘None,’ said the Chief smoothly.
‘Then you’re gonna be charged with disseminating alarmist news. You know you can’t go fooling the public that way and stay at liberty.’
‘What I’ve said is factual,’ said the Chief. ‘We know who the murderer is. But we haven’t any evidence to prove it. We’re looking for the evidence right now.’
‘You’re withholding vital information from the police,’ repeated Sharp. ‘I’m gonna drag you down Headquarters for that.’
‘You can’t bluff me, Sharp,’ said the Chief smoothly. ‘Every man is innocent until he’s proved guilty. We’ve got no right to say who that man is until we prove him guilty. We know he did it. When we prove it we’ll give you his name.’ He sneered. ‘Then you’ll be able to arrest him.’
Sharp breathed hard. ‘So you’re gonna play it the tough way?’
The Chief grinned confidently. ‘We’ll play it any way you like. But just don’t try pushing me around. I’ve got a newspaper behind me. And a newspaper’s a mighty weapon.’ He looked at Conrad and looked at Sharp, and there was an ugly twist to his lips when he said: ‘It might even mean we get a coupla cops put back on the beat.’
I thought Sharp really was gonna start something then.
But Conrad saved the situation again. He said tensely: ‘For Christ’s sake, Sharp. Remember what we agreed on. Cut it out, will ya?’
Sharp got himself under control. He looked at Conrad. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘So we don’t lose our tempers. We save it for some time when we can really get tough.’
‘Some time soon,’ mused Conrad. He smiled like he had something up his sleeve.
‘I’m a busy man,’ said the Chief. ‘If you two guys haven’t anything better –’
‘We wanna see Dane Morris,’ said Conrad smoothly.
‘Dane Morris?’ The Chief’s forehead puckered momentarily. ‘Okay, he said. ‘Go right ahead and see him.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Somewhere in the building, I guess.’ The Chief began pushing buttons. He asked his secretary to find Dane and have him sent up.
When he was through, Conrad said gently: ‘We heard he was out of town.’
‘Nonsense!’ said the Chief. ‘Why, he was in this office this morning. He’s around somewhere.’
Conrad’s eyes flicked to me. ‘Mr Janson specifically told us he was out of town and wouldn’t be back for a month.’
The Chief turned to me with a puzzled look. ‘Are you kidding? What’s he talking about?’
‘Don’t you remember, Chief?’ I said desperately. ‘You sent him away on a special job. Don’t you remember? You must remember!’
The Chief put his hands to the sides of his head like he was gonna pull out his hair. ‘Jeepers!’ he said. ‘Is everyone around here stark mad? What are you talking about, Janson? I never sent Morris anywhere.’
‘Maybe he was fooling,’ said Sharp gently.
‘I’m certain Dane’s not in the building,’ I said desperately. ‘I’m sure you sent him out, Chief.’
Right then I could picture Dane sitting at the bar downstairs, waiting for the message to summon him to the office. I began to sweat all over.
‘Janson,’ said the Chief softly, ‘there’s two of us here and one of us is out of our mind. Which is it, do you think?’ He pushed his face right up close against mine. ‘Is it me, or is it you’ – he terminated the sentence with a terrifying roar – ‘that’s stark, raving mad?’
‘I guess I made a mistake,’ I said. I crossed over to the door and stood with my back to them. I was wondering if by some miracle I might be able to stop Dane from coming into the office.
We waited there, we waited there, and we waited there. Hope began to rise inside me. Then the intercom on the Chief’s desk began to buzz. He switched it on and the voice of his secretary rang out clearly: ‘We’ve searched the whole building, Mr Healey. Mr Morris isn’t on the premises.’
‘Are you positive?’ he growled.
‘We’ve checked everywhere, every floor. Everywhere possible.’
The Chief switched off, and this time when he looked at me there was speculation in his eyes.
Conrad grinned knowingly. He winked at Sharp. ‘Fancy Morris not being around,’ he said.
‘He should be,’ said the Chief. ‘Don’t understand it!’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Sharp. ‘He won’t be around much longer.’ There was a note of quiet satisfaction in his voice that made the Chief glance at him sharply.
‘What are you getting at?’ he asked.
Sharp made a tent of his fingers, looked at the ceiling and smiled gently. For the first time since he’d come into the office he looked happy. ‘It’s gonna be kinda tough on the Chronicle,’ he said. ‘One of their reporters committing murder. Especially since the Chronicle knew about it and refused to give information to the cops.’ He shook his head in mock sadness. ‘My, my! What will the readers think?’
The Chief’s face grew red. ‘Look, Sharp,’ he said. ‘If you think that Dane Morris has anything to do with it –’ He broke off. He looked at me and licked his lips. His shoulders drooped. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘I guess you boys are smart. You kinda figure out the angles.’
Conrad got up lazily. ‘That’s what we cops are for,’ he said, with satisfaction. ‘We figure out the angles.’ He added, meaningfully: ‘All the angles.’
Sharp climbed to his feet, flicked the cigar-ash contemptuously on the Chief’s desk. ‘We’ll be seeing you, Healey,’ he said.
‘In court,’ said Conrad.
The Chief looked really despondent now. ‘I’m sorry you got so far,’ he said. ‘I was figuring on giving the boy a chance. You know how it is; you work with a guy …’
‘Sure,’ said Sharp, nodding. ‘We know how it is. But it kinda makes you an accomplice, too.’
‘They’ve got a paper at Sing Sing,’ said Conrad. ‘If your conduct’s good for five years you’ll maybe get a job on the staff.’
They pushed out, closing the door behind them. I stood staring after them, my heart like a piece of lead.
The Chief came up behind me, chuckled, dug me in the ribs. ‘I guess I fooled ’em,’ he said. ‘They’ve got a wrong lead. I think I acted that well. Kidded them along fine.’ He slapped me on the shoulder and chuckled again.
I turned around dismally, walked moodily across to the wardrobe. ‘What’s eating you, Hank?’ demanded the Chief. ‘Here we are, sitting on top of the finest scoop of all time and you’ve got a face like a yardstick.’ He chuckled happily. ‘Can you figure out them guys,’ he said, ‘chasing after Dane? Figuring him out to be the murderer?’ He chuckled again. ‘Boy!’ he said. ‘We’ve sure got them fooled.’
I had my hand in my pocket, gripping the key of the wardrobe and ready to open it up.
The office door burst open and Sharp’s face appeared.
‘Just one more thing, Healey,’ he said. ‘We’re looking for a guy named Carter. He’s Burden’s secretary. Seems to have disappeared. The police invite your co-operation. We want a picture and description published.’
‘Did he commit the murder, too?’ asked the Chief.
Sharp snarled, ‘Do you publish it or not?’
‘Give it to Hendricks outside,’ said the Chief. ‘It’ll go in the edition.’
‘Remember,’ warned Sharp, ‘we’re watching you, Healey. We’re gonna get you hog-tied every way we know how. You don’t happen know anything about Carter, do you? Where he is?’
‘Never even heard of the guy,’ said Healey. ‘Wanna pin a rap on me for concealing a suspect?’
‘If I could, I would,’ promised Sharp. ‘Just give me the chance.’
He went out and I followed him across the room, locked the door behind him. The Chief watched in amazement. ‘What’s the idea?’ he demanded.
It felt like there was a rope around my throat. I did my best. ‘You’ve gotta brace yourself, Chief,’ I said. ‘You’re gonna have a shock.’
‘What the hell’s biting you, Hank?’
‘You’ll see,’ I said. ‘You’ll see. Just prepare yourself for a shock.’ I went over to the wardrobe, opened it, and Carter came out. A nondescript guy and very, very frightened. His lips were quivering as he looked from me to the Chief.
‘And who the hell is this?’ demanded Healey.
‘Take a grip on yourself, Chief,’ I said.
‘Who is it?’ he roared.
I licked my lips. ‘Carter,’ I said. ‘Carter.’
‘And who the hell is Carter?’
‘Thomas Carter,’ I said. ‘He’s the secretary to Burden. He’s the guy Sharp just warned you about.
The Chief stared at me bug-eyed before his eyes slipped to Carter. His blue eyes went heavenwards, his hands went to the sides of his head and this time he really did begin to tear his hair.
9
The Chief was breathing heavily, his hair was dishevelled, his necktie was undone and there were beads of perspiration on his forehead.
He said with iron filings grating in his voice: ‘So that’s what you saw, huh?’
Carter nodded. He still looked scared.
The Chief said hoarsely: ‘So Burden was alive at ten minutes to seven, and you left Dane Morris there while Burden was alive?’
Carter nodded again. His eyes were frightened like those of a child being told a ghost story
The Chief looked at me and breathed hard. ‘Skinner didn’t need an alibi,’ he breathed. ‘Burden was still alive at the time Skinner claims he was home.’
‘Skinner hasn’t proved he was at home at seven o’clock,’ I put in quickly.
He gave me a sharp took. ‘Let’s check that,’ he said.
Five minutes later he was talking to Skinner. He worked an oily note into his voice and said ingratiatingly, ‘I’m Mr Janson’s editor, Mr Skinner. I just wanted to check a little point from you. It’s not for publication, of course. Mr Janson has explained that you’d prefer discretion exercised regarding your actions last night. But I understand you arrived home at seven o’clock this morning. Could you substantiate that?’
He listened and his face grew longer and longer. Finally he said: ‘Thank you very much, Mr Skinner. That’s just what I wanted to know.’ He hung up, rested his arms on the desk and his shoulders drooped like an accused man’s after the jury has found him guilty.
My mouth went dry. ‘What did he say?’
‘Skinner arrived home at seven o’clock,’ he said in a dull, monotonous voice. ‘He arrived there at seven o’clock, just as his daily help arrived. The woman who cleans up his place and prepares his breakfast for him.’
‘How long did she stop?’ I asked quickly.
‘She was there until the police called for Skinner.’
A heavy blanket of silence fell and you could hear the clock ticking on the wall like the slow dripping of eternity.
‘Hank,’ he said in a sepulchral voice, ‘we’re in real trouble. We’re as good as concealing a vital witness right now. One of our reporters is the prize suspect for this murder. We’ve got two hundred grand saying we can prove the identity of the murderer and the sure knowledge that Skinner couldn’t possibly have committed that murder. It would take half an hour to get from his home out to Burden’s place. But he was right there in his own home just about the time that Burden was dying.’
I knew the bottom was dropping out of everything. There was only one thing I could do. ‘Listen, Chief,’ I said urgently. ‘Take a week’s vacation. Let me take over. I caused this trouble. I’ll take the rap for it. I’ll accept all responsibility.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘No go, Hank,’ he said. ‘I’m in this with you. I backed you. I’m not edging out now. We’re in this together.’
That was just like the Chief. He was a straight guy. He’d never let you down. Just for a few moments I felt good again, just knowing that there were guys like the Chief around. Then the dull hopelessness spread through me once more as I realised just what a spot I’d got us into.
Carter asked ‘Should I go to the police, d’you think?’
I snapped my fingers. ‘Wait a minute, Chief,’ I said. ‘I can see a bit of daylight. If we can find the murderer, prove conclusively he was the murderer before the police do, then we don’t have to open the safe deposit. We just publish the facts, say we found the murderer and handed him over to the police. We can give his name and everything. Just as though it was the same guy who’s name is in the safe deposit.’
‘That’s just what you’re gonna do,’ said the Chief. ‘You’re gonna prove the murderer did the crime. But you’ve gotta prove it before Sharp does. And you know what that means …’
I looked into his eyes and there was an icy finger at the base of my spine. ‘You mean –’
‘That’s what I mean, Hank,’ he said grimly. ‘Dane Morris is your friend. He’s my friend too. And you’ve got just about the toughest job you’ve ever had. Dane looks the most likely suspect. You’ve gotta go after him. You’ve gotta pin him down.’
‘You don’t think …?’
The Chief’s face was hard. ‘I don’t think Dane’s a murderer,’ he said. ‘But it’s possible. We’ve gotta check that. And if he isn’t a murderer, maybe he’ll know something more than we do. There could only have been minutes involved.’
‘I hate to think it,’ I said. ‘Dane’s such a nice guy.’
His blue eyes were hard. ‘He’s got a long-standing motive for not liking Burden. Burden smashed his play without a doubt. There may be other reasons.’
I swallowed hard. I thought of Stella. I thought of Dane’s voice the night before when he had said: ‘Have you got a gun?’ I remembered, too,
his telephone ringing unanswered in the middle of the night.
‘We can make it easy for him,’ I said. ‘Burden asked for all he got.’
Carter got up uneasily. ‘Perhaps I’d better go to the police, now,’ he said.
‘You’ve gotta find Dane,’ said the Chief. ‘Find him quickly. You’ve got to get to him before Sharp does. And if it is Dane’ – his voice broke momentarily – ‘then you’ve got to bring him in yourself, Hank. You’ve got to bring him in with the proof. And we’ve got to publish that proof, have it on the streets before he’s charged down at Headquarters.’
Carter started moving towards the door.
‘Where the hell are you going?’ demanded the Chief.
Carter jumped nervously, spun around like a startled rabbit. ‘I think I’d better go and see the police,’ he said nervously. ‘Tell them about Mr Morris.’
The Chief got up, came around his desk. ‘Are you crazy?’ he asked. ‘Do you wanna get yourself fried?’
‘No,’ stammered Carter. ‘But –’
I took him by the shoulder, swung him around to face me. ‘They’ll crucify you, Carter.’ I said. ‘They’ll put you in that sweat-cell underneath the hot lights. They’ll keep at you. They’ll keep at you for hours. There’ll be lights boring into your eyes. You’ll be longing for a long, cool drink. And all the time they’ll be gunning those questions at you. Do you know what’ll happen?’
His eyes were wide. ‘What?’
‘They’ll make you confess,’ I said. ‘They’ll get you to say all kinds of things, trying to trip you up, making you contradict yourself. Before you know where you are, they’ll have you in the condemned cell. Do you want that to happen, Carter?’
‘They couldn’t do that –’ began Carter, looking worried.
The Chief took him by the other shoulder, swung him round to face him. ‘In 1936,’ he said heavily, ‘there were three men executed who were later found innocent. A year later there were two men mistakenly executed. There are hundreds of cases of mistaken identity every year. Hundreds of guys are still serving sentences for crimes they never committed. Are you out of your mind, Carter? You can’t go to the police with a tale like that!’